Dear Mazzy Kristine,

Your dad and I were sitting on a lumpy mauve futon in our quaint apartment on F Street shortly after we were married and it was then we decided what we would name our daughter if we were to be so lucky to have one in the future. Mazzy. It was settled. You were to be named after a band. Yep. We are those parents.


You came six years later in the summer of 2006...

I awoke at 1:30am on a Wednesday. With a very strong urge to pee, I stepped out of bed and immediately water started rushing down my leg. I was 29 years old and in labor with my first child. Twinges of excitement and a surge of anxiety swept over me. It was time. Time to meet you. I go into the bathroom and take the phone with me. After calling labor and delivery I step into the shower and fret about how I am supposed to drive to the hospital without soaking the seat of the passenger seat. Obviously I was focusing on the important matter at hand, right?

My hospital bag was packed. Check. (It had been packed for weeks since I was put on modified bed rest at 31 weeks.)

It was time to go. As I look down the hall at your dad in an effort to tell him we should leave for the hospital, I notice he's snacking. He's actually eating 1:55 in the morning. You know, so he won't be bothered with feeling hungry later. I shouldn't have been surprised, really. But instead of laughing at him I start to yell something about PRIORITIES!

The drive to Kaiser Morse was quite easy. Barely anyone was on the road at 2:15am. We talked about how excited we were to meet you. We talked about how our lives would be changed forever in just a matter of hours. We were ready as we could be.

My contractions started around the time I was admitted into the hospital. It was 2:30am. I remember sitting in the lobby of Triage when a woman walked in, clearly in hard labor. She would quietly lean against the side of the wall by the admittance desk and wait through her contractions. It was evident that this was not her first baby. Mine had just begun, so this episode playing out right in front of me was fascinating and terrifying to me.

I was at 5 cm at 2:45 and really starting to feel the contractions in a way that told me I needed to ask for that epidural. So I did. The nurse informed me that the anesthesiologist was with another patient, but that I would be next. Phew!

For the next 2 hours I was pretty much trying to deal with the pain with absolutely no success. You see, Mazzy, I missed the birth classes due to being on bed rest with you. Because I knew I wanted an epidural, I wasn't terribly worried about it.

Well...it wasn't pretty. I was writhing in pain, howling like a wild animal and your dad, bless his heart, had no idea what to do. He wanted to help, but couldn't. We both were incredibly anxious and wondering where the heck the pain doc was?!

At around 5am the nurse came to check on me. I was at 10 cm. Still. No. Pain doc.

I wish to this day that I remembered the name of that nurse because she saved me that morning. I was scared. Really, really scared to do this without medication. She knew that. She told them that I was at 8 cm instead of 10cm. I love that woman to this day.

The contractions were overlapping and I was losing it. The anesthesiologist came and they gave me "orders" to remain completely still while she inserted the needle. I was still. I was so very, very still.

Very shortly my body became less tense and I could feel the majority of the pain slipping away. Now, it was time to push. What? I remember thinking. I am exhausted at this point and now they are asking me to push!?

Mazzy, I did not excel at this part. I pretty much sucked. I had to do most of the pushing in my room before they wheeled me into delivery. This was not fun. Finally at 6am I was wheeled into what they called the delivery room. I large circular room with fluorescent lights and metal instruments. Three nurses busily prepared for your arrival. Your dad, right by my side ,stroked my hair and I could feel how excited he was. I mean, he was a total wreck by this point, but really really excited to me you.

And then at 6:22 am you were here. The nurse raised you onto my chest and I just stared at you. The first thing I noticed was your nose, truthfully. It was larger (or more swollen) than I expected. But you were beautiful and pink and mine. Ours. Oh, and your nose is perfect and one of my favorite things about your face. The next thing I noticed were your beautiful lips.

The next few days and weeks were a whirlwind of emotions. Happiness, sadness, frustration, elation, and exhaustion. You changed our lives forever and made us a family.

***

Happy Birthday, Roo. You are four years old today. We are so very proud you. You are bright and creative. You are loving and affectionate. You are friendly and outgoing. Your are dramatic and assertive. You are sassy, and at times a total control freak (like your mother).

Your favorite things to do: Bake, dress up, color, paint, read, play dolls, kick the ball, build forts, play chef, watch your favorite shows, play with your friends and cousins.

You tell us you love us everyday. You adore your brother and take care of him. You include him in your play and smile when he's acting goofy. You are the BEST big sister we could have ever hoped for Maxton. Thank you.

I love you,
Mama